


pull me into your glow

by azure7539



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Dom Q, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Just lots of fluff, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Sub James Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 06:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15189278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure7539/pseuds/azure7539
Summary: “Ready for supper?”Q would’ve jumped if he hadn’t already built up a sort of tolerance by now, narrowing his eyes as he turned to shoot James a glare, which only intensified as he took in the amused look the man was sending him anyway, jump or no jump.“Honestly, I should put a bell on you one of these days,” Q grumbled.“Promises, promises.”





	pull me into your glow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opalescentgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalescentgold/gifts).



> **[For the 007 fest 2018]**
> 
> This is a fill for two anon prompts (which I will name toward the end of the story, not that you all won't have already figured it out by then, of course). Thank you to the lovely [Opalescentgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalescentgold/pseuds/opalescentgold) for looking over this one-shot and for encouraging me! You're a little punk, and I appreciate you for that. 
> 
> Well, do heed the tags, dear readers, because they gave away _everything_ , but it'd weigh too heavily on my conscience if I didn't tag and make you walk into a story unsuspecting, so... here we are.
> 
> Enjoy!

By the time Q arrived home, it was already a quarter past eight, but compared to his track record of either stumbling back around three in the morning or not at all, he supposed this was a win. Q-Branch was running smoothly, and considering that this was one of those rare quiet nights, he didn’t see any problem in taking off early. 

Besides, he had a prior engagement already. 

“I’m home!”

A scent of aromatic spices filled the flat, and Q smiled, watching Alan and Ollie come out to greet him with well-fed, contented meows as they wound at his ankles. Reaching down to pet them both, he led the three of them back inside, dumping his messenger bag on the armchair and rounding toward the source of where this mouth-watering smell of food was wafting from: the kitchen.

“Welcome back.” James turned to him with a small smile of his own. “Just in time, too. The food arrived only five minutes ago.”

Q hummed and leant in to steal a chaste kiss. “Smells great. I’ll get the spoons, then we can watch a film together.” 

“Isn’t it my turn to pick tonight?” James said, and it sounded more like a reminder than a question, and Q scoffed, loosening his tie with one hand and grabbing two spoons with the other. 

“I  _ remember _ ,” he replied with pointed emphasis. But judging from the grin he could see rising on James’s cheeks even from this angle behind his back, Q knew he was fooling no one with his half-hearted attitude, least of all this incorrigible man. 

Shaking his head, he went back to the living room, got napkins out to set the cutlery down on their low coffee table, and place a soft and well-used cushion onto the floor. Ollie meowed at him then, eyeing the cushion in a rather daredevil fashion, and no matter how much Q adored his cats, he tutted at the little purr beast gently whilst stretching out his cramped muscles. “Be good and go play with your brother now. Cuddles later.” 

And because his cats always managed to be more sensible than even the humans that were Double-O agents, Ollie just trotted away, looking slightly miffed, but otherwise not interested enough to deem Q’s temporary rejection an utter betrayal.

“Ready for supper?” 

Q would’ve jumped if he hadn’t already built up a sort of tolerance by now, narrowing his eyes as he turned to shoot James a glare, which only intensified as he took in the amused look the man was sending him anyway, jump or no jump.

“Honestly, I should put a bell on you one of these days,” Q grumbled, accepting a plate of green curry and a good, helpful portion of jasmine rice into his hands. 

“Promises, promises,” James hummed, the sound airy but perched a little low in his throat at the same time. He walked past Q and picked up the remote control on the way, settling down onto the cushion somewhat gingerly. 

Q sat back down on the sofa, the side of his calf pressed against James’s side, reaching out to card a hand through the short blond hair, the pads of his fingers rubbing gently at the scalp. “Are you sure your ribs are going to be okay?”  he asked, the words soft like a brush of cotton against skin. 

James grunted a “yes,” his head nudging back into Q’s touch in a near feline gesture, a quiet sigh leaving his lungs that sounded almost like relief. And Q bit back a small sigh himself, his thumb kneading gently into the knotted muscles at the nape of James’s neck. 

“What film genre are we fancying this evening, then?” Q asked, letting the topic slide for now, his fingers never stopping their idle playing with the strands of graying blond hair. 

“Something with humor. Maybe.” 

When James leant against Q’s knee, his weight settling without much restraint, Q couldn’t fight the smile that curled up his lips. It never ceased to amaze him, despite them being in a relationship for quite some time now, just how  _ relaxed _ James was when it was just the two of them like this. How vulnerable and entirely trusting he was as he left himself wide open and submitted to Q, relinquishing his control the moment he crossed the threshold into their flat. 

It took a long while for them to have come to this point, but to see James this at ease—not only with his environment, but with himself as well—it was worth all the effort. 

 

 

 

 

They ended up watching a superhero movie—because while James would never say it aloud, he used to read and even collect the comics as a child—which turned out surprisingly as fun as the trailer had promised it would be. Loud, over the top, and out of this world, it was exactly the sort of mindless and fun entertainment that James appreciated after particularly long and strenuous missions. 

Q’s fingers massaged at the back of his neck, and James shivered, just a little.

Leaning against Q now, watching this while eating their takeaway, it almost felt as if the looming darkness of the world outside couldn’t quite reach them here, couldn’t quite cast its long shadow over this little pocket of safety, warmth, and comfort. 

He didn’t have to think like this, didn’t have to act, didn’t have to make sure his posture was right and the lines of his shoulders and back were square and straight… He could just  _ be _ , and that was already more than enough.

More than he thought he would ever get or deserve.

 

 

 

 

They finished dinner early on and just enjoyed the rest of the film together. By the end of it, Q tapped gently on James’s shoulder for him to turn around before patting on his lap next. 

Understanding the silent gesture, James climbed onto the sofa, knees astride Q’s form, and settled down with a quiet rustle of fabric, his arse a snug press against the thighs below. Q smiled, the palms of his hands finding their way to James’s hips without wasting a second. 

Multiple people had warned him about the impending risks and highly possible heartbreak that came from involving himself with James Bloody Bond, of all people. And while Q wasn’t saying that their relationship didn’t experience its own hurdles and difficulties, the careful weight of James on top of him now was also a clear example of just how considerate and tender a lover James could be when he was this calm and entirely honest with himself. 

This was not Double-O Seven, one of the deadliest and oldest surviving agents in the service of Queen and Country; it wasn’t even Bond the persona. 

This was just James and James alone, and Q felt glad everyday that he got to witness it.

“You’ve seen my present right?” It wasn’t as if Q had been trying for subtlety anyway when he had laid out the box right in the center of their bed that morning before heading off to work.

James nodded once, his expression giving away nothing, except for the slight dilation in the pupils of his eyes, which told Q that the gift had done exactly what he had wanted it to: tease.

Q’s smile was steady and unwavering. “Go try them on, then. I’ll load the dishes into the dishwasher in the meantime.”

For a second there, James looked like he might try for a halfhearted protest, but the words withered prematurely on his lips when the pad of Q’s thumb gave a firm press down onto the jut of that very same hipbone it had been caressing. 

“Understood.” James nodded and slipped off Q’s lap, giving up without qualm (because obviously, Q was not the only one looking forward to this), then proceeded to saunter off to their bedroom with a cheeky swing to his bottom that made it seem like he was asking for a good spanking. 

And honestly, since this  _ was _ James Bloody Bond, Q wouldn’t put it past him that it was exactly what the man wanted. 

“Incorrigible,” Q muttered under his breath, despite the grin on his face, as the bedroom door was left ajar much like the invitation that it was. 

 

 

 

 

“Do you like it?”

James was fidgeting at the hem of the chemise, which flared out in a soft flow of sheer lace that Q had picked out carefully so it wouldn’t be anything that would irritate James’s skin. 

After a long, extended, albeit not too dangerous, mission in Greece, James had lost a few pounds and brought back a bruised rib and a few cuts with him, but he still looked wonderfully breathtaking in that  _ just _ right shade of baby blue, which complimented the glacier shards of those eyes. 

James looked up just as Q strolled in until they were but mere centimeters apart, and smiled. “I do.” 

“They look good on you,” Q continued, the tips of his fingers ghosting along the trim of the cool, silk underwear he had chosen to go as a set with the chemise. He was pleased to find that it was neither digging into his skin, nor a tad too loose, all things considered. 

“Thank you,” James replied, gave himself once last sweeping glance, then focused back on Q. The smug, amused look was back on the tilt of his lips. “How long did you spend fantasizing about how I’d look in this?” 

Q sounded like he might have just growled, the tone almost primal in the back of his throat. That hand which had been not-so-discreetly following the contours of James’s body now reached out to grab hold of his arse, and Q grinned when the toned, firm muscles underneath filled his grasp pleasantly as he brought them both closer to one another. Face-to-face.

James’s pupils had blown wide open.

“Kiss me now,” Q whispered, and James did just that.

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompts: Dom!Q, and Sub!Bond + lingerie
> 
> Title of the story inspired by this song: [Hypnotised](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTfTeZ1CtmY) by [Years & Years](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9MNPh0ZtaDW0t-v7DlOEQA)
> 
> P.S.: You all now I'm a sucker for trope reversal.


End file.
